Haunted
by Animegirl1129
Summary: In which a Jackal PI case lands Spinelli in a haunted house overnight and things get seriously out of hand. JaSpin Friendship.
1. Chapter 1

Haunted

_**This chapter is really just the prologue of the story. Written as part of the hc_bingo challenge on LJ, prompt: poltergeist. Also written for suerum. GH characters aren't mine, reviews are loved, please enjoy!**_

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**_Chapter 1_**  
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Spinelli heads back to the McCall & Jackal offices slowly, hands shoved in his pockets to fend off the early November chill in the air. As he rounds the corner to face the building the PI office is located in, he frowns in confusion at the sight before him. Gathered in the street just outside of the entrance to the offices of McCall & Jackal, stands a group of five teenagers – three boys, two girls. They look anxious, maybe like they're up to something, maybe like they're just cold and impatient, but Spinelli has no choice but to approach them – after all, it is his business. And he's the one who'd gone and left his laptop in by his desk and that certainly won't help him get much work done tonight, forcing a return trip long after he should have been headed for home.

"Excuse me," he says, head ducked down as he slips by them to unlock the door.

"Hey. Hey, wait," one of them calls after him. "You work here? Is there any chance someone can see us? I know it's late, but we might have a case."

Spinelli bites his lip. He's supposed to be heading home, it's going on seven o'clock and he has things he should be working on for Jason and for other cases. But, nonetheless, he finds himself nodding. "Sure, come in. McCall & Jackal would be happy to be of assistance."

Once he corrals them into the office, they scatter about to find places to sit within the small office. He leans back against his desk and, as he absently wonders how long they'd been standing out there and what it is they want him for, he turns the heater up some so that maybe they'll start to thaw out.

"So," Spinelli starts, "what can the Jackal, that is I, help you with?"

One boy, who looks exceptionally fidgety, bites his lip and wrings his hands. He's the first to blurt out a reply. "Our house is haunted."

"Yeah, that's real convincing." Another boy sighs and rolls his eyes as he looks to the Private Detective. "Sorry. He's a little wound up right now. I'm Tyler Anson, this is my brother Josh. These are our friends and roommates Leah Sutton, Julia West, and Caleb Jansen." He gestures toward the three reaming teens scattered about the room.

Spinelli nods and offers Tyler a hand. "Damian Spinelli."

It's Leah who speaks up next, clinging to Josh for dear life. "We… we rent this big old house on the edge of town. We've been there for a few months now, but… Well, weird things have been happening."

"Weird things?" Spinelli repeats. "Like what, may I ask?"

"He's not gonna believe us." Caleb puts in from his spot on the other side of the room. "Hell, I'm not even sure I believe us."

Spinelli, however, is quite interested. "Perhaps you should explain, first and foremost, and then we'll proceed accordingly?"

Tyler shakes his head. "No. No, Cay's right. You won't believe us if we tell you. That's why we're here. We want you to stay the night at the house, see what you think of anything that happens. We'll pay you for the trouble, but we just need someone to prove, if only to us, that we're not all losing our minds."

"The Jackal is admittedly a bit apprehensive at the thought of agreeing to this case without much by way of information…" Spinelli frowns in thought, considering the potential risks of going into the house blind. "I'm not sure I can accept."

Leah and Josh look absolutely mortified. Caleb and Tyler don't look surprised. Julia is the one who speaks up. "If we'd asked you to go check up on boyfriends or husbands we thought we were cheating, you'd have to go on a stakeout or whatever, right?" She doesn't wait for him to answer. "Well, consider this a stakeout, but instead of sitting in your car for hours, you get to be inside."

"Yeah, exactly!" Josh agrees eagerly. "If you're worried about us being there, we'd be perfectly okay with staying somewhere else for the night. If… if you want us there…" He doesn't finish the sentence.

Spinelli regards them warily. They seem to be honestly concerned about the state of their house. "I'll need the address and a key. And I need to make a few phone calls, but I suppose it can be arranged."

Smiles and grateful 'thank you's come from all five of the anxious teenagers and Spinelli absently wonders what he's gotten himself into.


	2. Chapter 2

Haunted

_**Written as part of the hc_bingo challenge on LJ, prompt: poltergeist. Also written for suerum. GH characters aren't mine, reviews are loved, please enjoy!**_

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**_Chapter _**2****  
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"Wow," Spinelli mumbles to himself. The house is huge, probably a little bigger than Sonny's place but smaller than the Quartermaine mansion. At least he doesn't have to worry about the teenager's not paying him for his services – if they can afford a house like this, they can certainly afford his fee, even with the bonus they promised for the odd request.

"If you don't need me to stay, I'll be going. There's food in the kitchen, you can help yourself to anything. Go anywhere you need to." Tyler tells him, pulling the house key from the keychain stuffed in his pocket and offering it to the private detective.

Spinelli tucks it into his own pocket and continues to take in the main room of the house. Nicely decorated and amply supplied with framed pictures of the five friends, it certainly feels lived in. "Just one question, then you can go." Tyler nods, obviously eager to escape. "Was there… activity the whole time you've lived here? Or did it start up recently?"

"Always." The boy answers. "But it's been getting worse and worse the longer we stay."

Spinelli nods and drops the overnight bag he always keeps on hand during stakeouts by the couch. "Alright, then. I suppose I'll see you in the morning?"

Tyler nods and backs toward the door. Spinelli is secretly glad he didn't say something like 'hopefully,' or 'if you make it to morning' or something else equally dramatic and ridiculous. In fact, all he says is, "Yup, see you then. And thanks for this."

He's gone before Spinelli can reply.

And thus Spinelli is alone in the huge, old, potentially haunted house.

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Jason finds the voice message on his phone about two hours after he misses Spinelli's call. He'd been dealing with Sonny's irritation over some discrepancies in their latest shipment, but it had turned out to be a simple mix-up with one of the guards. It would have gone a lot faster if Sonny had let him handle it, but he had insisted upon being involved. Now he's just glad to be home.

"_Greetings, Stone Cold. It seems that a most peculiar Jackal PI case has turned up and, as such, your Jackal will likely not be home until morning. According to the clients, I am spending the night in what they claim to be a haunted house. I've texted you the address, in the event that I am needed for anything of import._"

He's not quite sure what to make of such a strange message.

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Sprawled across the couch in one of the off-shoot rooms of the large entry-way, Spinelli is attempting to relax for a bit. He's got his computer settled on his lap, but he's trying not to zone out on his assignment. He is supposed to be paying attention to what's going on in the house - even if he doesn't quite believe the paranormal claims - but a few quick checks on some of his other cases won't distract him too much.

He's just wrapping up the details of a standard background check when he hears it for the first time. A singular, loud 'thunk' coming from below.

He looks down to the hardwood floor as if it will hold an explanation for the noise. When that yields the expected lack of results, he looks to the various sound activated recorders and infra-red enabled cameras he set up throughout the house upon arrival. The voice recorder caught the sound, but there's no visual change on any of the cameras.

"Oh-kay," he mutters to himself, and tries to go back to work on his self-appointed task.

He hears it four more times in the next two minutes. Then it turns into rapid fire 'bang bang bang' noises that sound like someone is taking a hammer to metallic pipes. Something under him loudly groans, as if furniture is being dragged across the floor, and then the banging starts again. Still no physical movement in his covered areas.

Biting his lip, he resigns himself to the fact that he's here for work and that, as such, it is his duty to investigate these bafflingly odd noises. He stands, sets his laptop down, leaving it to run its pre-programmed scans on its own, and heads toward the basement door armed with a handheld video camera.

Because this is most definitely not a horror movie and he knows that he's here alone, he doesn't call out 'Hello?' or 'Is anybody there?' or anything at all.

His hand is on the door knob when he feels the out of nowhere chill in the air and while that is quite disturbing, he pulls it open anyway. The banging noise seems to get louder as he gets nearer and not just because of proximity.

"What is that?" He asks himself, only because he needs to hear himself talk right now. "Perhaps the pipes are freezing? But then that doesn't make sense because the boiler's on, does it?"

He proceeds down the stairs, and finds that the basement is one big, open area filled with sheet covered furniture and cardboard boxes stacked against the walls. While it provides a clear line of sight all across the room, it yields no explanation for the noises. The basement also seems to have a sort of built in coldness to it that makes Spinelli shiver despite the warm, hooded sweatshirt he has on.

"Most confusing." He mumbles, as the camera scans across the room. The ceiling is all pipes and wires and wooden beams, but there's no movement there, either. No rats or mice or anything else that would explain it.

He's programmed his cell phone with an application – one that he's hacked into and modified for his own uses – for an EMF detector. He's honestly not expecting much by way of results when checking for electromagnetic frequencies, but he's rather surprised when the little series of lights flicker into something like a positive result. Everywhere he points it, it gives off the high pitched noise that indicates its detecting high levels of electromagnetic activity.

"Hm, was not expecting that," he comments idly.

The banging stops. Another run through with the EMF detector now shows nothing abnormal in its results.

"Or that."

With nothing to investigate now, he backs toward the stairs - some intrinsic instinct makes him not turn his back on the room, as ridiculous as that is – but it seems that the basement hasn't quite finished with him yet.

He feels something brush against the small of his back, just a light touch like someone bumped into him in a crowd. But, since he is alone in a big, empty house, not in a bustling crowd, he wheels around in alarm. Nothing.

"The Ace of Cyberspace will not be so easily frightened!" He declares, though whether it's to convince himself or unseen forces is unclear.

This time, instead of the barely there touch, he gets shoved. He would swear that he feels a cold, bony hand do the deed, but then he would also swear that he's probably just imagining it. He's knocked to his knees, but he's back on his feet and scrambling up the stairs in seconds.

He's had quite enough of the basement.

By the time he reaches the top of the stairs he's in all out panic mode. Air doesn't seem to want to go into his lungs and he feels dizzy and he's shaky like he's just narrowly escaped serious injury. He shuts the basement door with a determined click and leans against the wall opposite, trying to catch his breath.

"Perhaps the Jackal will be that easily frightened," Spinelli quietly says to himself, eyes closed and trying to get his heart to stop racing in his chest.

It certainly doesn't help matters any when he sees a dark shadow cross over the big, bay windows by the front door.

His knees burn from where he skinned them when he fell, but he gets to his feet anyway. He's not sure what to do – go toward the shadow or get far, far away from it?

His heart speeds up even further and some sort of adrenaline fused fight or flight response kicks in because he's grabbing up a baseball bat – one of the teens plays, he thinks, which explains the oddly located item - and moving closer despite the fact that his mind is screaming at him to run away.

Spinelli's tension level ratchets up to red alert when he realizes the shadow crossing the windows has now metamorphosed into awkward scratching noises against the door.

It takes him a moment to realize what's happening, since his mind is so focused on the supernatural realm.

"He's breaking in," he whispers to himself. Spinelli finds he's bizarrely comforted by that discovery. Maybe he isn't quite up to handling ghosts that paw and push at him, but he thinks he can probably catch the human intruder off guard as he opens the door and whack him with the bat.

He gives a fleeting thought to Jason, wishing he was there as back up, but determined in his absence to make his mentor proud of him.

Taking a deep breath, he moves toward the door. The noise has decreased and now he clearly hears a small click which tells him that the unknown assailant has managed to breech the lock. It's now or never, and with another deep breath, Spinelli silently steps to the side of the door where the handle is located, now positioned to best advantage. He raises the bat above his and stands there poised to strike. Time and breathing both discontinue as he watches in fascination as the door begins to silently move inward.

Spinelli closes his eyes and swings as hard as he can at the thief intent upon breaking in.

He hears a grunt of pain and the sound of someone falling to the ground and that's when he opens his eyes.

The sight before him makes him close them again.

It's Jason. He is both overwhelmingly relieved to have his Stone Cold mentor here with him and absolutely mortified that he's just nailed him with a baseball bat. On the plus side, he doesn't seem to have done any serious damage and his swing only leveled out to Jason's shoulder.

"Remind me not to come check up on you anymore," Jason says, glaring up at his self-proclaimed protégé from where he's landed half in and half out of the open front door. "Put that thing down before you hurt yourself."

Pure relief washes over Spinelli at that, and he tosses the bat aside in favor of offering a hand to Jason and hauling his Master to his feet. "My most fervent apologies, Stone Cold. Your arrival nicely coincided with what was quite possibly one of the most terrifying moments of my life."

One hand absently rubbing at the shoulder Spinelli hit, he looks his protégé over. "What happened? You fall or something?"

The blown out knees of his jeans would seem to suggest that. "You could say that," Spinelli replies, not quite willing to admit the truth to Jason, who surely won't believe that some paranormal force shoved him in the dark basement. "Things have been quite eventful here, as it were."

"Your message said someone thinks this place is haunted?" Jason asks, with more than a detectable note of incredulity.

"The Jackal will admit that this place has its decidedly creepy moments."

Jason shrugs and lets Spinelli lead him further into the house. "Most old houses like this do."

Spinelli pauses in the doorway of a study-like room, looking thoroughly confused by whatever it is that he sees. Jason moves forward, too, but all he sees is Spinelli's bag and his laptop sitting on the end table beside a couch.

"What's wrong?"

"I know I left that open. I had programs running to monitor the cameras I set up." Spinelli explains. If it's been closed the whole time he's been away from it, then none of the data from the basement – or anywhere else in the house – will have registered.

"Maybe you bumped it when you left the room, or it might not have been open all the way and closed automatically?" Jason offers two viable suggestions but Spinelli knows neither of them are the truth.

Spinelli reclaims his seat on the couch and Jason hovers behind it, peering over his shoulder as he grabs up the laptop and opens it. After the initial loading screen passes, the programs Spinelli had previously been working with do not load as they should. Instead of various camera angles and voice recordings, he gets a plain blue screen. Typical of computer error, Spinelli frowns in alarm – as his computers do not typically suffer from computer error.

"Are you doing that?" Jason asks, something tense and on alert in his voice when he asks the question.

"What?" Spinelli questions, but then he sees it, too.

In place of the typical computer error message, different words have appeared.

'Damian, I'm coming for you.'


End file.
